"The Ballad of Angus McGee (poem)" by Larry N. Morris

by Dirk Ceruse

The maiden’s sighs were a song on the land

when Angus McGee strode past.

In his kilt and his tam, and with claymore in hand

he caused all their hearts to beat fast.

But Angus McGee was a leader of men,

of the warriors who guarded the clan.

He cared naught for the hearts he could win,

he was charged with protecting their land.

Tall and strong and bold was he,

a mighty warrior it’s told.

And in battle a terrible sight to see,

but the lands of the clan he did hold.

Then Angus McGee was told one day

of a blight upon the land.

Of a swarm of demons coming his way

so he called together his band.

Up to a pass in the hills they ran

and there they would meet this threat.

The dark tide had wasted a neighboring clan

but they hadn’t faced Angus yet.

Hundreds was the demons’ sum

where Angus McGee stood fast.

But only three abreast could they come

in the narrowness of the pass.

The slaughter was great or so it’s been said,

blood soaking into the ground.

And Angus McGee found his greatest dread

when he took a look around.

All his fellows lay slain and the hoard pressed hard,

still Angus McGee held the way.

Covered with wounds he kept up his guard

but his blood was flowing away.

At last the demons resigned and withdrew

and Angus McGee swelled with pride.

His clan’s lands were safe, that much he knew,

so he smiled, then he laughed ‘fore he died.